


Warcraft Drabbles

by OldMouse



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 03:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldMouse/pseuds/OldMouse
Summary: Some short works. Mostly fluff. Under 1000 words each. I'll update the tags as I add more.
Relationships: Wrathion & Anduin Wrynn, Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Kudos: 23





	Warcraft Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> I typed this up in the editor and didn't check it. Sorry for any mistakes, feel free to point them out.

Pragmatically, Wrathion knew Anduin was. Everyone from the Speaker's nice to the maid, though she stuttered the whole way, said so. But even the gruff and glaring Worgen king admitted most humans didn't get quite so sick. Four days of delirious ever leaving Anduin unable to recognize anyone. And when the fever broke his skin stayed clammy and gray. Humans were too...mortal.  


Wrathion sighed through his nose and went cross-eyed watching the small trail of smoke float away. "Wake up," he demanded. He pressed a sharp nail against the bridge of Anduin's nose. One of Anduin's blond eyebrows twitched, but he stayed limp. "Wake up."  
Wrathion wished he was still a whelp, then he could flap his wings until the jitters in his limbs faded. His half gown form, however, could squeeze into the room, let alone be able to open a wing. He rolled his eyes at the image, a tiny black whelp fluttering around the king of Stormwind, puffing out smoke and high-pitched roars as loud as a kitten. Maybe he preferred being older after all.  


Still, every healer worried about how oddly cold it was and he could help more than the dying fire in the hearth. He made a conscious effort to keep his transformation quiet and controlled. He ended up with one foot wedged under Anduin's bed regardless. "You had better wake up soon," Wrathion rumbled. He tucked his head between Anduin's pillow and headboard. The human made a soft grumbling sound as the whole bed shifted under Wrathion's weight. Even with his tail curled tight around his body, Wrathion's back knees hit the opposite wall.  


He watched snowfall outside the window with one eye. A few tiny, near melted flakes his the glass, where the hung for a moment before trickling down out of sight. The sun went down in a solid wash of pink before he moved, enough to finally wank his foot free. He closed his eyes and tilted his head until his cheek brushed Anduin's sweat-matted hair. "I don't like waiting, you know."  


He didn't sleep per se, but his awareness narrowed to the patter of Anduin's heart and his wheezy breaths. He did not hear the door open. The intruder grunted in surprise at finding a scaled leg half blocking the doorway. "You're a bit too big, dragon." Wrathion lifted his head enough to face Jaina Proudmore without knocking into Anduin. She shoved at his leg with her unoccupied hand and proffered some obscenely aromatic broth with the other. "A fine thing you aren't as large as Kalec," she said as Wrathion shuffled to let her by.  


"I will be," he snapped.  


"I don't doubt it. Here," she held out the bowl, "for when he wakes up." After a moment she realized her mistake and grinned. "You'll need hands to feed him when he wakes up," she said as she placed the bowl on the end table. "And," she paused for effect, voice going firm, "tell someone else when he wakes, you're not the only one worrying."  


Wrathion blew a small cloud of smoke at her in response and dropped his head back to Anduin's bed.  
"Dragons," she said, voice thick with long-suffering fondness. Wrathion wondered if Anduin found him irritating, too. The human sought out his company in Pandaria often enough. He must like Wrathion's dark humor and boastful stories a little bit. He resolved to ask when Anduin dug his way out of whatever delirium lingered from his fever.

**Author's Note:**

> I might do requests for this, let me know if you have any ideas you want to see.  
> Note: I never played Cataclysm, WoD, or Legion.


End file.
